


Behind the lettuce

by WholockianDalek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WholockianDalek/pseuds/WholockianDalek
Summary: Peter Parker is at a nice restaurant trying to get a contract for the "internship" with Tony Stark. To avoid being a nuissance, Peter orders a simple salad. Tony reacts... badly.





	Behind the lettuce

This was it. This was the moment that mattered. Spiderman slowly angled himself so he could see inside the room without being seen by his target - this man who had the potential to make or ruin his future. Carefully checking his suit, so that it was perfect for the upcoming mission, Peter Parker noticed that there was some web caught on his sleeve and quickly made sure that there was no issues with his web shooter before wiping off the sticky unclean and potentially reputation-breaking substance. Any slight slip could mess this up. Peter just wished his tie wasn’t so tight. 

Peter strode through the door, forcing himself to keep his hands steady and at his sides, no matter how uncomfortable it felt. Twice as composed as Peter wished he could ever seem, Tony Stark sat at a two person table in one of the most upper class restaurants in New York: the sort of place that Peter and all his friends might be able to afford a one person meal at if they all pooled together. As Peter noticed the golden chains wrapped around beautiful red curtains and the leather bound menus, he considered checking that Mr Stark was definitely paying for anything he ordered. 

“Hello, good…” Peter was suddenly stuck over whether to say good morning or good afternoon at lunch time, “Day. Thank you for seeing me, Mr Stark.”

Having extended his hand to shake, the terrified teenager suddenly realised how sweaty and warm his hand was. Inevitably, the far more relaxed man rose to greet him and extended his own hand. Peter shuddered slightly at the strength of his potential mentor’s grip and was extremely grateful as it was released. Then, like a child waiting for permission to take a seat, he stood awkwardly behind his chair as Mr Stark gracefully sat down. After a few seconds of uncomfortable agonizing avoided eye contact, Peter took a light nod and an eye roll from Tony as an invitation to join him at the table. 

While humming to himself, Tony flicked through his menu occasionally commenting on how he has liked a dish in the past. As Peter opened the menu, the first thing that hit him was the prices. Skimming the pages, he realised the only things he could possibly afford were drinks, or starters. The latter almost resembling a meal, Peter chose a rather nice looking goat cheese and rocket salad, with cherry tomatoes and pine nuts. It was almost something he would have considered making himself at home - unlike the other dishes, in which he did not recognise half the ingredients. 

“Are you two gentlemen ready to order?” asked a waiter whose suit looked almost as uncomfortable as Peter’s, though at least two times the price. Both looked like garbage when compared to Tony Stark’s personally tailored and perfectly fitting, hand stitched cashmere. 

After a quick nod of consent, Stark started ordering. 

“I'll have the steak, cooked rare and replace the side salad with your grilled vegetable side, and put extra marinade.” he said, carefully closing his menu and passing it to the waiter. 

In a strangely distorted thought process, Peter decided that if he asked for as many specifications as Tony then it would sound like he knew a lot about food.

“I would like the Chèvre Chaud salad,” said Peter, completely butchering the French, “But could you please replace half the rocket with iceberg lettuce. Thank y- you.” he said, confused after a death glare from Tony. 

“You're already sinking far enough to get a salad and then you decide to replace a mediocre leaf with lettuce, the worst leaf I'm existence?” he said, putting a particularly spitting emphasis on sinking, salad and lettuce. 

Peter, totally lost at what the problem was, slowly stammered out an attempt at an explanation.

“I… I didn't… want to get anything too expensive and… I wanted…” 

Tony Stark stared at the stuttering teenager and smiled kindly.

“It's okay kid!” he said warmly, “ I've got enough to pay for something better than a miserable salad.”

“I actually like lettuce.” said Peter, staring at his feet and checking that the waiter wasn't nearby.

“Lettuce tastes like sadness.” said Stark with a smile that Peter could not see. 

“Then I'll eat sadness.” 

The anxious teenager was starting to think that this interview wasn't worth it, that he could just walk out of here and be an independent spiderman. Still, Stark had power and connections and if Peter wanted to offer the full potential of his abilities he needed that influence. 

“Anyway, I had a few base terms for our contract, some of it is open for negotiation.”

Peter got out a pen and a notepad, whereas Tony got out an iPad with a word document with outlines and drafts of points.

“Firstly, you have to report back to me via one of my staff, who will be assigned to you, every time something interesting happening. You must stay out of anything too dangerous: anything extra terrestrial or with government involvement. You have to keep your identity secret. You have to stay in this area unless I give you permission to do otherwise.”

Peter nodded quietly after each proposal, wishing he could argue but deciding against it. Oblivious to the sensitive nature of the situation, the waiter arrived and deposited the food. Tony glanced down at Peter's food and smiled. When the waiter moved away, Tony Stark added an extra line, in between brackets, to the contract draft.

“And you have to tell me what you think of your meal, in comparison to mine.” smirked Tony.

Peter looked at him with a look of complete shock and confusion mixed with hilarity. Slowly taking out his fork, Peter took a carefully constructed - with the perfect balance of lettuce to cheese to tomato - bite of salad and chewed it slowly as if considering it like a connoisseur. 

It was a really good salad.

“Well my meal is perfect so yours has to be inferior.” said Peter, with the corner of a smile developing on his face. “But I don't have a point of comparison.”

With a sudden loss of his smile, Stark realised he had played himself into a trap. At this point, he either had to concede some of his steak or admit that there was no way of judging the superior meal. He definitely was not going to lower himself to the point of trying Peter's salad. Since he was starting to really like the kid, Stark decided to cut him a piece of the steak - and justified this to himself by saying he was proving a point.

To Peter's great surprise, there was now a piece of warm, juice - or saignant as Mr Stark had called it, steak in the middle of his dish. Peter reacher for his knife. Peter dropped his knife on the floor. Peter picked up his knife.

Cutting the already bite sizes piece into two and spearing half, Peter tasted the food, acutely aware that this small cube of meat was worth a month’s allowance. Spices perfectly meshes with the beefs inherent flavour to accessorise but not overpower it's inherent flavour.  
“Wow, this is amazing.” said Peter, having not quite finished chewing and spraying minute particles of sauce over the table. Tony smiled, lent out his hand to Peter and said quietly, “You've got the internship. Let me drive you to Stark Tower so we can finish up the paperwork.”

Peter glanced over at the still almost full dishes on the table, losing a slight edge to his smile. 

“We can finish the food first.” chuckled Stark. 

A light lit behind Peter's eyes: he was getting a fantastic opportunity and an awesome salad. 

Later that evening, Tony and Peter sat slightly uncomfortably facing each other in a limo. Suddenly, Tony yelled to the driver, asking him to stop, a wenn pointed out of the window. There, sitting in the window of a small clothes shop, was a T-shirt. 

“Lettuce, the taste of sadness.” read Peter from the t-shirt, before bursting out laughing.

“I'm buying it for you.” said Stark. Peter stared at him in utter disbelief before being pulled out of the car and into the store. After a quick exchange at the cash register, a man, a teenager and a blue t-shirt with a cartoon bowl of lettuce and a beautiful caption were back in the limo. 

When Peter Parker got home that night, he made himself a promise. As long as he got to be spider man, he would keep that t-shirt in his weekly clothes rotation. But only ironically. Lettuce is awesome.


End file.
